


Steps.

by TheStoriesWeLoveBest



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStoriesWeLoveBest/pseuds/TheStoriesWeLoveBest
Summary: One morning Mary finds someone at Baker Street she doesn't expect to find.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adlerty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adlerty/gifts).



> It's a bit AU, because I will not follow season 4 plot. So, it happens after series 3, but without the new series' events.

She used to go before he wakes up, she used to scape by his window, and no one was aware of her presence. She used to leave a lipstick mark on him that he was obligated quit.  
Nevertheless, that night he hadn’t went back yet. John and he had spent the las twenty six hours in Southbank, trying to catch a jewellery burglar talented in the disguises. She had accepted that she would lose her flight because of him, because she had been waiting for him. They couldn’t let the dinner pending.

 

Mary arrived at Baker Street five minutes past eleven, with little Rosie asleep in the enormous baby buggy they are not used to use. After a quickly visit at Baker St. she was going to take her daughter to the park. She guesses John was there, because he hadn’t gone home that night, after waving a quickly goodbye the morning before and go to find Sherlock. Besides, Mrs. Hudson was dying to hold Rosie again. 

She knocked on the door three times before the woman opened it, said hello, hold the baby like if she hadn’t see Rosie in years, and invited Mary to a cup of tea that she didn’t refuse. Mary hadn’t already taken the first sip when the noise was listened. 

Mary wasn’t surprised by it, but Mrs. Hudson was. The noise was from a door being opened, and had been followed with soft steps. Soft woman’s steps.  
“A client” Mary said, but Martha Hudson was already moving negatively the head. 

“There’s no one up there.”

“Where are Sherlock and John? Didn’t they come back?”

The intruder had opened a tap, the bathtub tab. Who could be upstairs? What woman could be there?

The trespasser was still there, they could listen the drip of the water against the bathtub. She was in the bathtub for an hour, and downstairs both women were sharing al the hypothesis without being not even close to the truth. Who would enter in Sherlock’s house without using the door and used his bathroom when there’s nobody at home?

They listened the steps again when she left the bathroom. Maybe Mary shouldn’t have done it; maybe she should recall that she wasn’t an assassin anymore but a mother that had left all the dangerous adventures behind. But she couldn’t resist.

“Stay with Rosie”, she said to Mrs Hudson while she was standing up and leaving the Mrs. Hudson’s kitchen without looking back. 

She went upstairs avoiding the crackling of the wood, with secrecy and caution, with the expert’s steps of someone with a difficult past. There wasn’t anybody in the main room, but definitely there was someone in the flat, someone potentially dangerous. She was Sherlock’s gun above the dining table and in two shorts strides she had it in her hands.  
Before she could watch around and look for a target, a woman’s voice startled her:

“Are you going to shoot me too, Mrs Watson?”

Mary knew that voice, she had heard it before, when she was still in AGRA and she wasn’t Mary Morstan yet. She turns very slowly, with the gun trustfully catch in her right hand just to find Irene Adler next to the fridge, with the arms crossed against her chest: she had the hair wet, she wears Sherlock’s blue dressing gown and she was barefoot. Mary didn’t know it, but the picture was very alike the one that had occurred some years before.

“Did he told you?” She asked. Irene raised an eyebrow. “Did Sherlock tell you that it was me who shot him?”

“Obviously” she answered, pressing her lips together. Irene moved towards Sherlock’s chair and sat down, pulling her legs against her and without looking away of her. “I thought you were solving crimes with them. Isn’t it what you do? 

Mary pulls the gun up, taking a step closer to her. Irene didn’t seem surprised at all. 

“I should shoot you, you know? Are you aware of the mess you made in my squad? We almost die that day. 

“Oh, yes”, she said, smiling as if she had heard a good joke. “Does Dr. Watsons knows who you are?"

A cab stop in front of the house and just two persons get down of it. Both women were perfectly able to listen to them, to feel the heavy steps of Dr. Watson and the quickly ones of the detective while they crossed the street till 221b. 

“You need to go, now” rushed Mary. “Sherlock didn’t like people looking into his house, into his things.”

 

“Oh, Darling, there’s nothing to worry about: I know what he likes. 

Both of them keep quiet when they opened the door opened. Mary looked at her with the terror the eyes and still grabbing the gun with more strength than the necessary, in Irene’s direction. She was smiling, looking forward what will happen.


End file.
